Polly
by Valentina LaFontaine
Summary: Polly was coming home from the punk show, unsuspecting that she would sleep with danger. With one move and a simple knock on the head she found herself in hell. Joker and Scarecrow are her masters and she's the puppet. Now Polly has become a statistic.
1. Polly want a cracker?

"Polly want a cracker?" said the man with the blue eyes and high cheek bones. Polly looked up lazily at the cracker that he was waving around just above her face. She was so hungry and so tired, she could barely move. The air was thick with sweat, sex, blood and everything in between. She was glad he was done, she had learned to ignore him when he was on top of her. She learned to pretend she was on the beach again, or shopping with friends. She hadn't learn to ignore the humiliation.

Polly was so hungry that she tried to reach for the cracker, her lips barely touched it before the blue eyed man snatched it away, in sadistic pleasure. He knelt down and stroked her black hair. Her brown roots were showing. Polly had meant to re-dye her hair the day the men had spotted her coming home from the punk show. She wished she hadn't worn the provocative clothing. That was her mistake. She always found a way to mess up something. Now she was in a cold basement barely able to move after being thrown down the stairs and forced to satisfy the two men. She could never imagine being in this situation. It happened to other people, not to her. She was going to beg for the cracker like he wanted her too. Then the sawdust from the basement roof fell in small grains to the cement floor.

Footsteps.

She hated those footsteps, she knew who was coming. She groaned trying to pick herself up, as if she could run. Maybe it was survival instinct, or maybe it was sheer hope that with some stroke of luck would come and she would be saved, but the blue eyed man just pulled her by the hair and slammed her on the ground. Her face touching the cold floor. She shivered when she saw the purple coat. She looked up at him, his make up was fading, and his curly green hair was pushed out of his face. He motioned for the blue eyed man to leave, so the clown could take over. The clown knelt beside her. Dark green eyes met his cold dark ones.

"Awe, what's wrong with my Polly?" he asked in a mock baby tone.

"Hungry." she managed to say after awhile.

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a box of crackers. How she hated crackers now. She became angry with her mother suddenly, how dare the woman name her something that he could mock her with. He pulled out one cracker and waved it in her face. She lunged for it but he pulled away.

"Not so fast, Polly." he purred. "You have to earn it."

Polly knew how she had to earn it. Every time she earned it, she would have to perform some task. Sometimes it wasn't sex. She shook her head vigorously begging him with her bruised eyes, but he grabbed her by the hair.

"Does ah, Polly want to earn it?" He made her nod her head. Polly felt tears burn her eyes, as she heard him unzip his pants. He slid them half way off to his knees, so she could see his cock. She forgot about her aching sides, and legs she tried to crawl away, but he pulled her by the leg, and rubbed in between her legs. "Polly isn't going to get her treat if she doesn't shut up." She whimpered as she felt him touch her. His touch was like pollution to her. When he did she died a little inside. At least this time she didn't have to feel his skin on her.

She squeezed her eyes praying that everything would stop. She kept back the tears and the squeels she knew he liked that too much. When he was finished she opened her eyes and felt two crackers fall on her head. She greedily grabebd them, tasting the salty dried bread in her dry mouth. She looked up at him, as he zipped his pants back up. He narrowed his cold eyes at her and picked her up by the hair. He flung her naked body into the wall. When she tried to look up he hit her in the stomach. She wrapped her arms around her bruised stomach but she didn't make a sound. She was not going to satisfy his sadistic pleasure, she had to be strong. At least for one more day. He slammed her head against the concrete wall but she still didn't make a sound.

After each blow her resistance grew weak and she finally let out a scream of pain. He finally stopped. He left her to wallow in her bruises and cuts. Tears burned her eyes, and fell into her bare lap. She pushed her black strains away from her face, trying to ignore the pain. She closed her eyes, hearing the buzzing of the lamp, and the ticking of the clock.

It was music to her ears.


	2. Skin Against Skin

It was hot in the basement for Polly.  
Her hair was sticking to her back.  
The ropes were digging into her wrist.  
Sweat fell from her brow, and down her cheek eventually getting lost on her body.  
Her bruised, aching figure was barely moving even when she breathed.

She looked out the only window and saw the many things she once knew.  
Birds were chirping, animals of all sorts were scavenging around.  
She heard the voices of many people.  
The insignificant things in life were the ones she miss most.

She wondered where her family was.  
Did they miss or forget her?

The little things that kept her from losing her head, was the music and the tv upstairs.  
Apparently the blue eyed man loved old tv shows.  
I Dream of Genie was on.  
She hummed the theme song.

She tried to move her hips like the Genie did in the opening scene but it only caused the ropes to tighten.  
Her ribs were the source of her pain.

Then the TV stopped.

She heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

_Creak, Creak, Creak, Creak._Polly prayed it was just her imagination.  
But there was no such miracle.  
She refused to look at his face, she didn't even look at his shoes.  
She just stared out the window, listening to the empty sounds of the house.

The blue eyed man released the ropes that bonded and blacken her body.  
Polly's arms, and body fell limp.  
He knelt beside her, staring at her sweaty, pale face.  
He stroked her hair, and Polly looked away.

He gently pushed her face to meet his and he kissed her cracked lips.  
She didn't kiss him back, but she didn't fight.  
She wanted to vomit to feel his lips against hers.  
His body weight pushed down on her damaged body.

She whimpered at the pain, as he got on top of her again.  
Her mind was numb as she heard the clinking of his belt being undone.  
Polly stared at the ceiling.

Waiting.

It was gray with shades of white and brown.  
The ceiling was old, and endured many things.  
She wondered who owned the house before them.  
Did they even own it all?

Polly's mind came back from her dream state when he began to take off the rest of his clothes.  
It was horror to her, in the sickest form she could think of.  
His skin pressing against hers.  
Her stomach turned, and her eyes burned.

Tears stained her cheeks, as he pushed himself into her.  
His moans reached fever pitch.  
He held her wrist down hard into the pavement, while she quietly whimpered and cried.

He was finally done.  
Everything was blurry to poor Polly.  
Lost in her phantasmagorical nightmare.  
Polly suffered another death.

He put on his clothes, and walked back up the stairs.  
Leaving her with the sound of..

_Creak, Creak, Creak._

Echoing through her ears.


	3. Never Cry

Polly ventured out of the basement for once and was sitting in the room with the clown. He made her wear a purple dress and a purple headband in her head. He forced her to take a bath, not that there were any objections from the girl. Polly tried to think of the last time she even had a bath better yet bathed. She smelled of all sorts of things and none of them were even the least bit pleasant.

The Joker pushed his head into her hair smelling the sweet smell of fruit from her shampoo. "Polly needs her hair brushed." He noted, taking a gold brush and gently brushed her hair. He was surprisingly gentle with her. She flinched and tensed at his touch, but after awhile she loosened up. She let him take control, as she stared at the images displayed on the screen in front of her.

It was the same old news in Gotham. Another rape or another theft. Then her picture popped up on the TV screen. Joker grinned and wrapped one arm around Polly and the other pointed to the screen. He spoke like the news report on her disappearance was a good thing.

"Look Polly you're a star." he said.

Polly felt a lump in her throat and tears burn her eyes, but she couldn't cry anymore. There was no use in crying, it never solved anything. It was just a waste of water. She didn't even want to listen to the news report, as far as she knew it was just a waste of time. She was going to die anyway, but the only question was when?

"Turn it off." she croaked. She barely used her voice anymore. It hurt too much. Just to whimper was a task on herself and she needed to retain as much energy as possible. Both men barely let her sleep. Even if they did it was impossible. When she closed her eyes all she could see was both of them standing over her, and eventually using her for all she worth. Joker used the back of his hand to soothe her, dragging the leather glove across her hair.

"Isn't that what Polly wanted? Fame?"

Polly didn't say anything she just stared into the fabric of dress. She could feel the gun next to one of the pillows that was by her thigh. It was the only thing that kept her from running away. Not that she could run far. The blue eyed man kicked in her in the shin pretty hard and now she could barely move it. She had a large bruise to match her growing black and blue skin.

"Polly, hungry?" Joker asked taking out a sand which wrapped in plastic. She waited for him to give it to her, last time she snatched it she didn't eat for a week, or more. She wasn't sure. Everyday tended to run into another.

He put the sandwhich in Polly's hands and without thinking she ripped off the plastic and shove the contents in her mouth, not wasting any slice of meat, tomato, or lettuce. She had been a vegetarian for years but the need for food was too great for her to ignore. She wasn't used to the taste of meat but now it didn't matter. She had never been grateful for such a present. In captivity food was a gift not a right. She had no right to anything.

He petted her softly like she was a animal.

His animal.

She didn't look up from her food until she saw the blue eyed man appear from the other room. The air conditioner still wasn't fixed, and he was sweating like a pig. His short brown hair matted to his forehead, and sweat fell from his brow. He looked at the TV and saw they were staring at the news report on Polly. He looked at the young woman and she looked up at him. She froze as she held what little of the sand which was left. She heard the plastic rattle in her shaking hands.

What was he going to do?

His blue eyes went from the young woman to the clown that was still petting her. "Do they know anything about her?" he asked. Joker didn't look up to meet the other man he just stared at his catch of the day.

"Don't worry about that Johnny."

_'So that's his name.'_Polly didn't want the men in the room with her. She slowly felt them closing in on her even if they didn't move. She stared at the TV again watching the news move onto politics. She didn't care what. She was in her own world, without them. Just Polly.

Alone.

Forever young.

She didn't even feel both of them touching her. She didn't feel both of them stripping her of her clothing. She was absent from them. It was her way to maintain a piece of sanity that she could call her own. She vacantly did what they told her to do.

She never cried.

If she cried the pain would only last longer.

She couldn't if they used her for an hour or so. She became aware only at nightfall. She was back in the basement again naked. Her hair was in disarray and her body was pale and aching again. She couldn't remember what they did to her. Maybe that's what hurt her more than the act itself. She heard the squeaking of movement upstairs, and the sound of the Adams Family theme song.

Polly closed her eyes again, imaging the black and white TV show. It slowly put her to sleep.


	4. Hate You the Way I Do

Polly was upstairs again.

Her naked body was covered with the Joker's purple coat and a short skirt. She was sitting on the floor while the Joker sat in a chair stroking her hair, like she was an animal. The blue eyed man or Johnny as the Joker called him, was in his room making something. Polly didn't know the details and she didn't care.

Joker bought her a make up kit, and told her to look really pretty for today. When she looked in the cracked mirror to put on her make up she noticed how skinny she had become. She looked like one of those coked out models with their pretty eyes painted black. She choose a little foundation to cover up the bruises and black eyeliner with purple eye shadow to match the coat. She combed her tangled hair gently nearly breaking the fine tooth comb in the process, and now she was sitting on the floor next to a psychopathic clown biting back the shakes in her body.

"Does Polly wanna dance?" he purred curling strands of her hair between his fingers. She didn't respond she waited for him to make the decision for her. All the fight had been beaten out of her several weeks ago.

His now bare pale fingers turned the knob on the radio until he found a song he liked. She didn't know what the song was but she got up to begin dancing to it. A woman's voice appeared on the radio.

_'I fuck you because you're famous.'_

Polly swayed her hips to the beat, she knew if she faked it he would tell and there would be another beating. She imagined herself dancing in her room far away from this place.

_'I fuck you for your money.'_

She ran her fingers through her hair and curling it between her thin fingers.

_'I fuck you to control you._'

Polly could tell the clown had never seen a woman wear his clothes before. She remembered a movie poster, where a young girl was sucking on a lollipop. The movies name was Lolita. She imitated this by sucking on her thumb. She saw the left side of his scar twitch.

_'I fuck you so someday I can have half of everything you own._

_I fuck you to fuck you over.'_

She moved her hips a little faster matching the soft beat. She dragged her fingers up and down her stomach.

_'I fuck you 'til I find someone better._

_I fuck you in secret._

_I fuck you because I can't remember if I already fucked you before._

_I fuck you out of boredom.'_

She closed the coat so he couldn't see her body, then opened it again so he could see the outline of her breast and her pretruding ribs.

_'I fuck you because I can't feel it anyway._

_I fuck you to make the pain go away.'_

His dark eyes ran to her feet and up her legs to her thighs. Polly should've been afraid but she wasn't. At least not on the outside. She had to do this for another day or even another hour of survival. The woman's voice left and a man's voice replaced it. Polly leaned forward both of her hands resting on the arms of the chair that he was sitting in.

_'Fuck you because I loved you._'

_Fuck you for loving you too._

_I don't need a reason to hate you the way I do._

_Fuck you because I loved you._

_Fuck you for loving you too._

_I don't need a reason to hate you the way I do._

She ran her fingers through his greasy locks, disgusted that he enjoyed it. The woman's voice returned back into the music.

_'I fuck you so I can feel something instead of nothing at all._

_I fuck you because you are beautiful.'_

She sat on his lap her face close to his. She could even smell the make up and the gasoline that lined his clothes. She wanted to vomit from the stench.

_'I fuck you because I am your whore.'_

Their lips were practically touching.

_'I fuck you because you are a whore.'_

She could feel the scar on his bottom lip against her dry ones.

_'I fuck you for fun.'_

She tried to convince herself that it was her lover, it almost worked.

_'I fuck you because I can.' _

She had to do this. She pushed her lips against his, and his hands were on her waist.

_'I fuck you so I have a place to stay._'

In the past weeks maybe more this was the proudest she had been of herself. She had seduced him. She thought of all the ways she could use this to obtain her freedom.

_'I fuck you so you'll protect me.'_

He pulled away from her and said in her ear gently. "You thought you had me, bitch." He pushed her off his lap and he punched her hard in the face. Just as she fell to the ground as she heard the man's voice on the radio say.

_'Fuck you because I loved you._

_Fuck you for loving me too._

_I don't need a reason to hate you the way I do.'_

Blood fell from her nose as he hit her over and over. She took the blows, and even though she kicked and scratched she just couldn't hit him. One last punch caused her world to spin and she couldn't fight anymore. Blood was falling from her mouth, and her vision turned black.

_'I don't need a reason to hate you the way I do.'_


	5. Scarecrow

Polly sat on the basement floor again. Her nose was broken and she had to resort to breathing through her mouth. It was uncomfortable at first especially when sleeping. It was torture to be so tired all the time. She was staring at a pile of newspapers that "Johnny" had thrown down there. Most had many of the pictures and articles cut out while others were worn down, like they had been read through over and over.

Polly looked at the date on the newest newspaper edition of the Gotham Times. The date read June 16th. She remembered the date of the punk show, the date of the show was April 29th.

_'Shit, almost two months?!'_ she thought bewildered at the loss of time. How could she not have realized how many days had gone by. She guessed long ago she had given up on the concept of how many days they had made her waste. The first week she did, but after awhile it ran together and it seemed like one long day.

She heard "Johnny" walk around upstairs. She began to distinguish who was who by now. The clown's feet tended to drag on the heels but "Johnny's" was quick but cautious. She tried to imagine what would posses a seemingly unthreatening guy like himself turn to raping and torturing a innocent person. Polly had never done anything to him, she had never known of his existence until that fateful day.

Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest when heard his footsteps coming near the stairs. He stopped for a second, cleared his throat and walked down the stairs.

_Creak, Creak, Creak _

If it was only a horrible nightmare she could deal with only a few more minutes of the sound of silence, but her wish had failed to come true. She looked up at him, the white in her eyes were replaced with a outer trim of red and there were dark circles under her weary eyes. Her face had sunk in making her cheek bones look almost like his. "Johnny" had something behind his back but Polly couldn't see all too clearly.

He walked to the other side of the room, pulled a chair out from the dark corners of the room and sat in front of her. He was wearing a suit, and his hair was neatly combed and parted in the middle. His deep blue eyes captivated Polly. He cleared his throat again and said in a soft but apathetic voice.

"How are you..umm..." he said searching for her name.

"Polly." she said in a raspy tone.

"Yes. How are you?"

Polly took a minute to breathe. She forced the words out of her dry throat. "Why are you doing this?"

"I'm not sure that's a feeling Polly. Perhaps you'd like to try again."

"Do what you have to do." Polly growled putting her head down to her knees. She waited for him to make his move on her, but he didn't. He stood still and he pulled something from behind his back. It was a briecase. He didn't open it, it just sat on his lap, but it still looked menacing.

"Right to business eh?" "Johnny" drawled. He stroked his chin contemplating his next move. "Would you like to see my mask?" he asked. Polly frowned, but she didn't respond. "Johnny" didn't care if she wanted to or not, instead he opened the case and took out what looked like a poorly stiched brown potato sack. "When I used to work at Arkham, the crazies couldn't stand it. You know what they called me?" he asked putting it on and pressed a button. Foul smelling, and tasting spray shot at Polly. She coughed, and looked up at "Johnny".

"They called me Scarecrow." his distorted voice gruffed. Polly screamed and yelled with fright as his stitched mouth began to bleed spiders and rats. The things she feared most. They ran at her, scurrying up her legs and all over her body. No matter how much she kicked and pounded on them they all came back and began biting at her leaving blood running down her legs. They were coming for her eyes, nipping and scratching at them.

Pain.

She was in so much pain. Her heart was beating out of control, she needed to remain calm, but she couldn't. There were too many spiders and rats. Scarecrow was gone, he left her to suffer just like the trash she had become. The rats and spiders came from all the corners of the room and they began to eat everything and cover everywhere. She was screaming and yelling and writing in pain. It continued for what seemed like days even though it was only hours.

While Polly was screaming in terror "Johnny" was upstairs making his dinner to the music that he created.


	6. Our Deadly Connection

Polly's spirit was broken, finally. She struggled with her drive to live. She couldn't bear another day. Her mind was still playing tricks on her. When the clown came down later to use her there was a rat on his shoulder and a spider crawling up his purple coat. It was all in her head and she knew it. "Johnny" had drugged her, and watched her suffer. She closed her eyes when she heard him come near the stairs.

She knew what his intentions were, but this time she had to fight or say something. She was indecisive. She thought that maybe he would kill her if she pushed him to the edge, maybe all this would end. She thought of something she could say or do. She could barely move and she had to save her energy. When he was half way down the stairs she began to fake whimper. He frowned and walked to her and pushed her hair out of her face so he could watch the crocodile tears fall down her bruised cheeks.

She said in a dry voice. "You-You don't have to do this. I've been watching you for a long time, and I've seen the hurt that you feel. I heard about what the Batman had done to you and I couldn't believe it." He stared at her, in disbelief but he was listening. She had his attention, she concentrated her eyes in a sad puppy dog look, and his look softened. "I know what it feels like to be in pain, and I'm sure it doesn't compare to yours but you don't have to hurt me to feel alive. We can feed off each others pain. I mean ever since I've seen you, you've been on my mind and I-." she nearly choked on the words. "Enjoyed our moments together. In fact I even longed for them. We have a connection, Johnny. Can I call you that?"

Maybe he wasn't thinking or maybe he liked the way she said it but he nodded. He was entranced by those sad green eyes of hers. "Please, Johnny. Whatever that clown is making you do you don't have to. You're smart and beautiful you can do anything you want. Just please don't hurt me anymore. Please?" she reached out and touched his hand. The same hand that beat her, the same hand that felt her, the same hand that held her down, the same hand that had caused so much chaos in her life she was grasping in hers. She pushed his hand to touch her chin, and he voluntarily stroked it.

Those blue eyes were so captivating and hid back the pain of his younger years, she somehow made that connection with him. He had fallen for it. From the corner of Polly's eye she spotted the leg to the chair Joker had broken earlier. He was in a rage and threw the chair against the wall. All Polly could get through the grunts was the "Batman had ruined.." Then he viciously used her again and again until he was tired of it.

Polly needed to reach for the leg of the chair, but it wasn't in arms reach. She cursed to herself but maintained her control over him. With the energy she had to spare she sat up on her knees and kissed his full lips. Surprisenly he kissed her back. She couldn't understand why he was maybe out of the sheer honest thought that she could possibly hold any feelings for him or maybe it was that human desire to reach out for someone for love and affection. He might have been a psychopath but he was still a man and a human being.

The feeling of his warm tongue against hers, and his hands sliding up and down her bruised body made Polly want to vomit. However it gave her the distraction that she needed to make her way to the leg of the chair. She opened her eyes to check to make sure his eyes were closed.

They were.

She quickly reached for the leg of the chair and slammed it against his head. He cried out in pain and grabbed his head and curled in a ball. She hit him again in the back to make sure he stayed on the ground but he was still screaming curses at her. In her adrenalin rush she used all the strength she could muster and she dashed up the stairs and headed toward the creaky old door. She twisted at the keys to unlock it when she heard "Johnny" rush up the stairs. She frantcially ripped open the door and ran out the house. She was naked, bare foot, bruised and some parts of her body was covered in dried blood. She wasn't even paying attention to who was behind her or in front of her she just yelled and screamed as she ran down the street. Tears were running down her face when she saw "Johnny" start to catch up to her.

She ran faster and faster ignoring the pain in her feet as she stepped on rocks, garbage and other things. She had been saving this strength for a special moment. When it seemed like "Johnny" was drifting farther and farther away and hope seem only a step or two further from the corner of her eye she saw a white van appear out of nowhere and in the passenger seat was the clown. He had a shot gun in his hands. There wasn't anything Val could do to defend herself against a gun, especially against a lupara. She saw a alleyway and ran into it, then she heard the loud 'BANG' from the shotgun and it had narrowly missed her.

Polly almost stumbled but she couldn't give up. She didn't hear them anymore, she didn't hear anything. Her feet were light as she ran. She couldn't feel the pain in her body or her raw feet. She even felt light as a feather. She ran until she found a police station not too far from the house. She was out of breath and collasped in front of a cop. He was eating his fourth doughnut today and drinking his second cup of coffee and he nearly dropped his breakfast in shock.

Kneeling at his feet she begged for help, for anything. The cop took off his coat and wrapped it around Polly's thin body and led her inside. They investigated her body, watching in horror as she told her story of how both of their most wanted criminals who raped her, starved her, didn't let her sleep, and above all kidnapped her and held her captive for who knew how long. They wanted her to go back to the scene of the crime, and show them where they were.

Of course she agreed.

They pulled up to the house and she smiled at them. Now she had on some clothes they were able to scavenge. "I can do this by myself." she said reading to take the step out of the cop car.

"Are you sure?" One of the cops asked. She nodded in response and walked out of the car and closed the door. She made her way through to the door. For some reason she couldn't understand why it was open. She looked beyond the threshold and saw in a pool of blood there was the real Polly. She was lying in a pool of her own blood, and a smile carved on her face. She was still naked and bruised and her eyes were wide open. "Johnny" and Joker were standing over her. Joker was still holding the bloody knife.

It was all in her imagination.

The cop car faded, soon "Polly" faded along with her future and hope. The real Polly was dead.

Joker told one of his henchmen to put her body on display on the steps of the club where she was kidnapped from. There was a crowd surronding her mutilated body. Many people were crying, while others were staring. Most had never seen a mutilated body.

Polly watched from above as they told her mother what had happened. She saw the look of anger and pain in her darling mothers eyes and the sadness from the cops who had to zip her up in the body bag. She even heard the coroner say what her cause of death was.

_'A shot gun blast to the back.'_

_'Bruises and lacerations all over her body.'_

_'Brutally raped repeatedly.'_

_'Sodomized.'_

_'Dramatic weight loss, probably from starvation.'_

_'Two broken ribs, a broken nose, fractured collar bone...'_

_'Cuts on he feet, probably from glass when she tried to run away.'_

_'Lacerations say that she had been dragged for a long period of time.'_

Polly didn't want to hear anymore. Before she knew it she was looking down on her own funeral. She tried to comfort her mother who was hysterical with grief. People were outraged but what could they do, no one knew anything about where they were and by now they were gone. Polly looked and saw it was a open casket, she looked so dead, so peaceful, so still.

The hurt was gone, everything was gone. Joker and Scarecrow had won. She couldn't beat the system of their nature she was just a statistic now. Another number that they claimed as theirs. Her suffering had ended by being pulled away in a body bag, and even though Polly was at rest she could still feel them on her, she could still taste the iron taste of blood as they hit her over and over. She could still see the spiders and rats and the words were still ringing in her head like the bells of Notre Dame.

_"Polly want a cracker?"_

_THE END  
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_Thank you so much for reading and reviewing my short story. I hope you will read my other works and continue to review them. I feel very sorry for Polly, I cannot imagine what it would be like to be in that situation._

_Just a couple of points to clear up._

_1. A Lupara is a sawed off shot gun. More powerful than a average shot gun. It pretty much explodes onto you, and death is inevitable especially in a sensitive area.  
2. "Polly" when she went to the police station was the real Polly's dream. When you die your brain releases a chemical that causes you to hallucinate (which is why people think that they're heading towards the light or they see angels) and her hallucination was finally being freed from her captives and confronting them. Just in case that wasn't all that clear.  
3. Polly is based off the Nirvana song by the same name. It has the same concept, where they victim is tortured and raped but the real life Polly gets away and has the chance to see her rapist and kidnapper go behind bars. My Polly wasn't so lucky._

_Thank you so much for helping me make this story possible, you guys are amazing and even my silent readers they are pretty awesome too. :)_

**_Love Now and Always,_ **

_Val._

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